The Ghostwriter and the Phangirl
by Partners in Fanfiction
Summary: Erik/OC. Avril Hills, a Phangirl, runs away from her drunken mother to live with her grandmother in Paris. After acing an audition for the part of Christine at a community theater production of The Phantom of the Opera, a few impossible things, good things, happen. Those happenings can only be possible with the help of an angel. An Angel of Music. Rated for language
1. Chapter 1

**(Quick author's note:**

**We wrote this in like a month for shits and giggles. We haven't been to France and therefore haven't the faintest idea what it's like there. Please forgive us for every inaccuracy and enjoy~**

**We also don't own The Phantom of the Opera/Erik. We only own Avril and her grandma and her friends) **

I left St. Cloud for good on March tenth. I was only seventeen and I had kazillions of reasons to. I had no friends, a troubled past, no acceptance and no regrets. I sloppily shoved clothes that I would miss if I left without them into a duffel bag until I realized it was overflowing. I zipped it up and took what I needed from my room in a carry-on guitar case with my guitar. iPod, gray beanie, instant camera, hairbrush, Madonna rubber bracelets, a few earrings…and one thing I couldn't live without—my copy of _The Phantom of the Opera_ by Gaston Leroux. The greatest book ever written. I might need it where I was going. Actually, I didn't, it's just a book, but it's my favorite. It was all I had left of my dad. He was a good man, musically talented and very smart. I take after him a lot and that pisses my mom off. Another reason I would leave. It was ten o'clock P.M. and I was all packed. I dropped my stuff by the front door and went to my mom's bedroom. She was asleep, cuddling a jug of whiskey like she would cuddle a baby but I was never a baby. Just a burden. I looked at her smiling sleeping face and remembered dozens of times I saw the same thing. She just had sex. I went to the kitchen and got a bag of pretzels. I slammed them on her nightstand. I then found a fresh condom in her sock drawer and put it next to it. I went to the living room and found _Mean Girls_ on DVD. It was the only thing my mother and I had in common—we both enjoyed _Mean Girls_. I put it by the condom and snacks. I cleared my throat and said in my Amy Poehler voice, "You need anything, some snacks, a condom? Let me know! Oh, God love ya." I grabbed the bottle from her and smashed it on the pretzels, condom and DVD. "Fuck you! I'm leaving!"

I never found out if she did anything about it. I slung the duffel on my back and my carry-on in my hands and I rode my skateboard to the airport, with the ticket to freedom in my pocket.

I had five minutes before I would be on the plane to Paris, but I had to call Grandma. I put a quarter into the last American public phone I ever saw and called her. She answered in her old French lady voice, _"Bonjour?"_  
"Hey, Grandma, it's me," I said. "Avril."  
"Oh, Avril, my _petite-fille_. Are you boarding the plane?"  
"Yeah, almost right now."  
"Oh, good. I'll be there when you come."  
"Cool. See you soon," I said. "And…I can't thank you enough for this."  
"It was only a matter of time before I knew you would want to get out of there and I don't blame you," she said. "But I'm so excited to see my little granddaughter all grown up!"  
The only time I knew what love was, I had to wait for hours in the cold for a Christmas card from Grandma before Mom would throw it out. Grandma hated Mom just as much as I did. Mom was in Paris conducting a "scientific sexual experiment". She had recorded herself banging an Asian guy, a Spanish guy, a Native American guy, a Canadian guy, an African guy and an American guy, and she went to France to bang a European guy. My dad was the only one who didn't understand what she was trying to do but before she got him into bed they had to date a little. My mom ran off when it was over but when my dad found out he had a daughter five years later he invited me to spend the summer in Paris. It was the best summer I ever had. My dad died three days after I returned home. "Bye, Grandma," I said.  
"_Au revoir_, Avril, see you soon," Grandma said. I hung up and ran to the plane.

As I sat on the plane waiting for it to take off, I remembered the time I spent in France. I met a boy who was hardly a year older than me. His name was Alexandre Moreau or something, I called him Alex. I met him waiting in line at the Palais Garnier with my dad and Grandma. As I thought harder I remembered him turning to me and saying, "_Est cette votre première fois à l'opéra, aussi?"_ and I said, "I don't speak French." My dad said, "He asked if this is your first time at the opera, too. _Ouais, c'est sa première fois. Parlez-vous anglais?_" Alex replied, "I speak English very well and it's fine if you don't. I'm Alex." After that, we was like peas and carrots…or something. We got tickets sitting next to each other and although we did whisper to each other a little I remember what we saw very well, even though it was in French and Dad had to explain what was happening sometimes. The opera was called _Carmen_ and it was based off a book. I read it when I was eleven and I understood about forty percent of it, but I liked it.  
I never had a friend like Alex. We only knew each other for one summer but I wanted to see if I could get back in touch with him somehow. Grandma knew him because she was with us when we met so I hoped she could help me with that. The time finally came when we were free to take electronics out. I put my earbuds on, turned my iPod's volume very high, and played the _Phantom of the Opera_ Original Cast Recording. As it started, I dug up the copy of the book and I read the words I had read a million times and never got tired of. _"The Opera Ghost really existed…"_

_"It is no ordinary skeleton,"_ I read right before the captain asked the people on the airplane to put away their electronics. I put my iPod and the book away and gazed out the window and saw the City of Lights. It was the very early morning and all I knew was that in the big gray block I could see below me the old lady I hadn't seen but wrote to and just called was waiting for me with all the grandma love grandmas give grandkids. I felt a bump and realized the plane had landed. I wanted to scream, _hell to the yeah, my ass is out of that cowtown in America!_ but that would lead to trouble and I didn't want that. So I just smiled the biggest smile I smiled in twelve years and knew it would be bigger when I saw Grandma. I got off the plane and saw there was only one person who looked like she was actually waiting for someone. She had long silver hair down to her elbows, a yellow blouse with a tie in the middle and jeans. She was standing on her toes, moving her head around looking for me, so I pushed out of the crowd and stood behind her. "Annette Cormier?" I said.  
She turned without looking at me and as she did she said, "Yes?" When she laid her kind blue eyes at me she squealed like a little girl and gave me a very strong hug that I didn't know a sixty-nine-year-old short woman would have the strength for. I cherished the moment because I hadn't felt it in a kazillion years. Still hugging me, Grandma said, "Oh, Avril, it's so great to see you!"  
"You, too, Grandma," I replied.  
She let go and said, "Oh, you must be exhausted. You have bags under your eyes!"  
"Do I?" I said. "Well, ten-hour flight. I was wide awake."  
"Doing what?" Grandma said.  
I dug into my carry-on bag and brought out the book. She smiled at the sight and said, "Yes, _Le Fantôme de l'Opéra._ The greatest book I've read in my life."  
"Yeah, I think it was you who sent me the copy for Christmas," I replied.  
"Yes, that was me," Grandma said.  
I laughed and said, "I barely understood a word of it but I grew up and appreciated it more, not that I never did."  
We briefly caught up as we walked and found my bag. Grandma said she lives in a nice two-bedroom house that was a long walk or a short drive to the Palais Garnier. She knew I had to pack light so she bought me some clothes and I told her I'd wear anything that wasn't disgustingly revealing. My bag came after twenty minutes of waiting and Grandma took it. She said she could handle a lot of weight because she works out every week at a gym to prevent her from becoming a_"gringalet"._ That means weakling. She remembered that she could carry me on her shoulders when I was five for, like, half an hour until _I_ wanted to get down.

We exited the airport and a bright sun between pure white clouds greeted me. I had to put my hand above my eyes to keep them from melting as Grandma led me to her car. As it started loudly, she said, "Give it a minute, it's a sensitive old piece of _merde_. I'm buying a new one this summer." She dug into a tote bag between the driver and passenger seat and pulled out a black CD case. She smiled at me as she opened it and slid it into the CD player. I tried to find the case but she moved the bag away from me before she started driving. I giggled until I heard the overture to Phantom of the Opera. I grinned and said, "Grandma, I love you sooooo much." We sang along to a few songs as she drove us to her place. In the middle of _Think of Me_ she said, "I'm not trying to be good anymore. You do it."  
I paused it and asked, "What did you say?"  
She stopped at a red light and answered, looking at me, "I can't sing these days, Avril, I'm too insecure. You, on the other hand, you can do it. Don't let me bring you down. Sing!"  
She turned it back on and I nervously did. She opened my window but I closed it. "I'm not very confident, either," I told her.  
"That's a pity, who would dare criticize you if they weren't jealous fools?"  
"Thanks, Grandma," I said with a smile. "But why are you so insecure?"  
"Well, I used to be begged to sing at parties before your father was born, people would get on their knees and bow down. People offered to make me famous for it but if I did I would be separated from your grandfather who was my boyfriend at the time. I refused and so they found out my cousin Geneva had a talent. She went into showbiz and died from alcohol poisoning. And that was another reason I refused, I was afraid of what fame could bring to me. When people asked me that question, I told them and they all laughed at me. It hurt my feelings so much, I never wanted to sing again. I sing in private, but if I am in the presence of someone better in the least bit, I'll surrender to them like people used to me."  
"Come on, Grandma, you were good!" I exclaimed.  
"Not good enough to accompany you," she chuckled. "Have you been in any school plays?"  
"I'm not liked enough," I said.  
"If I ever meet those people, I will make sure they don't see the last of me without two black eyes," Grandma smiled like it was a nice thing.


	2. Chapter 2

Grandma parked by a brownstone apartment complex. Each had a patio with its own decoration. She parked across one with flowerbeds, bush pots, three chairs circling a circular glass table and a chandelier that looked like it had unlit candles on it. "Home, sweet home," she said before getting out.  
I got out and stared at it, amazed. "This is your house?" I said.  
"Uh-huh," she replied causally. "You weren't staying with me when you visited twelve years ago, but I had it then."  
"Right," I said. "Wow."  
She led me up the stairs to the porch and as she unlocked the door a man said, "_Bonjour_, Annette…_et étranger_."  
"_Bonjour,_ Horace," Grandma replied. "_ceci est ma petite-fille, Avril, elle ne parle pas français ainsi si vous ne vous occupez pas."_  
"Of course," said the man. "Welcome to France, Avril."  
"Avril, this is my neighbor Horace," Grandma said.  
I politely shook his thick hand. He had a huge head with some hair left on his head but it was pretty gray. He seemed to be about fifty or so. "Thanks," I said.  
"And Horace, Happy Days is on tonight."  
"Yesssss!" he shrieked as Grandma opened the door to let me in.

The room Grandma gave me was really nice, nicer than any bedroom I had ever seen. There was a high-rise bed with royal blue sheets and pillows and a desk at the feet with a really comfortable-looking chair. Under the bed were drawers and at the head there were shelves. There was a wooden door she said led to a bathroom and a few paintings of flowers that complimented the pastel purple walls. She helped me put my stuff into the drawers that already had some really nice clothes in them. I thanked her and realized I was exhausted so she let me rest. I slept like a baby but dreamt of something…peculiar.

I saw Carmen again at the Palais Garnier but I wasn't with Grandma or my dad or Alex. I was sitting in front row center with silent strangers. The show was really good, better than the one I saw when I was five, but during the intermission someone seemed to calling my name. I followed the sound until I reached a Victorian-style dressing room. The wide and spotless mirror was kind of dark and I walked towards it until I saw a figure dressed in black with blacker hair and a bright white mask covering half of his face. He was really just like…the Phantom of the Opera. Gorgeous. I walked forward as I could hear him sing, _"I am your angel of music…come to me, angel of music…"_

I woke up to the sound of a kettle shrieking. I rubbed my eyes and realized I was drenched with sweat. The sheets had a puddle of sweat in the shape of my torso. I saw the sun was out and bright but there was more fog when I looked out a window. I went into the bathroom, washed my face and went to the kitchen to find Grandma in a sky blue robe, pouring tea. The clock on the stove said nine thirty. She heard my footsteps and said, "Avril, you have been asleep since you got here on Thursday. It's Friday morning. I tried to wake you but you started humming_Phantom_ tunes and I didn't want to disturb a good dream. That would be cruel. Would you care for some green tea?"  
"Yeah, thanks," I said, sitting at the circular wooden table. She poured two cups of tea and passed one to me. She then put two glass jars, both with some glass flowers around them, one with honey and the other with sugar. I gave myself some honey as Grandma got out a box of pancake mix and a bag of chocolate chips. She put them on the counter and put some sugar in her tea. She took a long sip and then started making pancakes. "They're better with chocolate chips if you ask me," she said as I took a sip of my tea.  
I swallowed and replied, "I agree."  
"Do you like them soft?"  
"Yeah."  
"Good, so do I." She started mixing the pancakes and then asked me, "So, was there any Phantom business in the dream you were having?"  
"I was humming something, you said?" I asked.  
"Yes, you were humming _Angel of Music_," she replied.  
"I was kind of hearing it," I said. "And…seeing a Phantom."  
"A movie Phantom?"  
"Um, black-haired with a half mask. He was ridiculously hot," I said.  
"I would have done anything to go to the 2004 premiere," she said. "But I couldn't. Not because I would be arrested for attacking Gerard Butler, but it was too far away. I saw it at midnight at a theater and I didn't want it to end. It was absolutely perfect."  
"Cool. I saw it after school one day. I was, like, nine and I understood it pretty well. Other versions pissed me off. Especially the 1998 one."  
"I saw it on TV and turned it off in the middle because it disgusted me!" Grandma shrieked after flipping two pancakes and taking a sip of her tea. "It would be good if it weren't the Phantom of the Opera!"  
"I know, right!" I exclaimed.  
"And the horror movie one, the only thing scary about it was that they changed everything good about the story!"  
"It sickened me," I scoffed. "I don't know why the hell I sat through it. I wasn't scared, I was disgusted, and that's worse than being scared."  
"You seem to be a very brave girl, Avril," Grandma said.  
"I am," I replied. "I couldn't stop laughing when I saw _Child's Play_ when I was seven."  
"Who showed you that?" Grandma asked with wide, disgusted eyes.  
"I dunno, probably a boyfriend of my mom's thought he could get on my good side by spending time with me but the only thing we'd agree on were movies and he only liked atrocious horror movies. Child's Play entertained me, as disgusting as it was. It made me laugh."  
"Well, you are a trooper," Grandma said.

When we finished eating, Grandma gave me a map, some money, her phone number and a huge red tricycle with a wire basket under the seat and told me to get out of the house and enjoy Paris. I insisted on taking a quick shower so I wouldn't stink up the place. I put on flared skinny jeans, a gray pea coat because it was forty degrees and foggy, and a black _Phantom of the Opera_ shirt that said in uppercase letters _PHANTATIC_. I put my instant camera around my neck, got on the bike and followed the directions to the Palais Garnier.

"Damn it, where is it?" I murmured to myself in the middle of Paris bustle. I looked around until I caught a glimpse of something bright and beautiful. I gasped and stared at it feeling as small as I did when I was five. I turned on my camera and took as many pictures as my finger could press. When I was through I biked around some more until I thought I saw the words _Phantom of the Opera_somewhere. I found a sign saying _"Phantom of the Opera Auditions March Twelfth."_ My mouth dropped. I tore off a stub with the address and biked to the destination.

I found the building, a simple and small beige community center, fairly far from the Opera House but near. There was a bike rack so I parked and then went inside. A young woman with straight blonde hair was sitting at a desk reading something and I said, "Excuse me, um, do you speak English?"  
She turned to me and said, "Yes, I do. How can I help you?"  
I showed her the stub and said, "Um, I found this. What's going on?"  
"Oh, _Phantom of the Opera,_" she said with a smile. "Yes, my uncle is directing it. Do you want to audition?"  
"Yes!" I shrieked eagerly.  
She smiled and reached into the desk. She handed me a sheet of paper and said, "Come back tomorrow with this filled out."  
I skimmed over it and said, "So I can pick a song as long as I have the sheet music with me?"  
"Yes, and on the back is a list of long lines they'll read you in for or monologues you can read for them."  
I looked at them and saw among them was one from Mean Girls. I said, "So, do I ask you for a copy of the monologue when I choose?"  
"Yeah, what do you want?"  
"_Mean Girls_," I replied.  
"Cool," she said, digging through the desk again. She handed me the long line from the end of the movie before Cady breaks the Spring Fling Queen crown apart and throws it to everyone. I skimmed through it and said, "Oh, I can totally do this."  
"That's good," she said. "Well, good luck."  
"Thanks!" I replied before scurrying to the bike.


	3. Chapter 3

Before I biked back to Grandma's place, I attempted to take a picture of myself outside the store, holding the sheet music. I tried, but it turned out the picture only showed my mouth, my chest and the mask logo on the bottom of the cover of the sheet music. I tore it in half and threw it away before I pedaled home with a form, a monologue, sheet music and a very happy Avril.

I parked the bike in Grandma's backyard and brought the stuff inside. I found Grandma in the living room knitting and watching TV. I exclaimed, "Grandma, Grandma, I have the opportunity to audition for a community theater English production of _Phantom_!"  
She looked at me and I showed her the form. "Because I'm kind of a minor, I need guardian permission."  
She looked around on an end table and found a pen. "Gimme the form _now_!" she squealed. I shoved it in her direction and she signed her name, pressing down. I added, "I have to do a monologue from _Mean Girls_ and I wanna sing a song from_Phantom._ I got some sheet music."

Grandma brought out an electric keyboard and played _Think of Me_ over and over until we both got starving and ate. As we ate, we filled out the form. Grandma told me to say that I'd only want a lead role and even though that would be super awesome I just needed to be part of it so I didn't add that.  
That night, I finally was able to sleep after getting over the excitement of auditioning for my dream the next day and slept. I had the same peculiar dream with the Phantom, dead sexy as ever, singing to me. It would be soooo cool if I believed that there was a Phantom but I just didn't. I woke up to Grandma shaking me and we headed to the community center after eating breakfast.

I waited outside the theater with Grandma, humming the song and trying not to think about Lindsay Lohan in rehab. Grandma was whispering words of encouragement in French and English as I was trying to sit still but what was in my mind was the practically perfect voice of the Phantom I saw in my dream. The door finally opened and a nervous looking girl came out. She said before I went in, _"Prenez garde, le directeur est un type effrayant."_  
She walked away and I asked Grandma, "What'd she say?"  
"She said the director is scary," Grandma replied as we went into the theater. "Just do your best."  
Sitting in the front row was a gray-brown haired man in a red polo shirt with a frighteningly sour face. He was next to a woman at least in her thirties with piercing green eyes and neat pure brown hair. On stage left was a man in a button-up shirt with black hair and a droopy face that was probably even droopier because of his glasses. I said, "Um, hi, I'm Avril Hills."  
"Mhmm. Your form?" the man in the front row said. I passed it to him and he skimmed over it. He continued, "So, you got sheet music for us?"  
"Yeah, do you want me to sing first?" I asked.  
"It's up to you," the woman said with a husky voice.  
"Okay, um, I'd rather act first."  
"Got a monologue?"  
"Yeah, from _Mean Girls."_  
"Cool," the woman said. "Get on the stage."  
I got on the stage and cleared my throat. "Whenever you're ready," the guy at the piano said, sounding a little impatient. I opened my mouth and spoke. I tried not to look at the people's sour expressions staring blankly at me as if they didn't give a crap but it was scary! When I finished, the man sitting in the front row said, "All right, your song?"  
_"Think of Me,_" I said, handing it to the guy at the piano.  
"Good choice," the woman said. It was nice, but she sounded a little tart. The piano guy starting playing and I sang like I never sang before. As I did, I felt like I wasn't just under the cold eyes of the two men and woman, but being watched by someone I didn't know personally but wanted to. It was a ridiculous thought and I hoped it didn't interfere with my singing but when I finished the song and the man not at the piano said, "Okay, send the next person in, we'll call you in a few days," I wasn't so sure he liked me very much. I took my sheet music back and went back to Grandma who was waiting outside. "So, how'd it go?" she asked eagerly.  
"That girl was right, they are tricky."  
"Maybe they just want to see how you are under pressure. That's good. Unfair, but good," Grandma said.  
"I hope so, I'll be really bummed out if they don't cast me. I'll play anyone, even Carlotta."  
"It'd be an honor to play Carlotta, she has plenty of songs to herself," Grandma said as we headed outside.  
"But she's not supposed to be a good singer. I don't need to be considered any good, I just need to be in it!"  
"I promise, Avril," Grandma said, stopping before the door. "You'll be in it whether they like it or not."


	4. Chapter 4

Two days later, during breakfast, Grandma's phone rang. We had been eagerly waiting for the "big call" for what seemed to be months. Every time the phone rang, one of us would jump to it and answer loudly, "_Bonjour_!" or _"Hello!"_ But this time, we got the big call. I beat Grandma to the nearest phone and answered excitedly, "Cormier residence, Avril speaking!"  
"Avril Hills?" said the husky woman's voice.  
"Yes, is this the theater?"  
"It sure is," she said. She wasn't speaking coldly but nicely as if she had something awesome to say. But if it were bearing bad news there was a kazillion percent chance I would break down. She continued, "We are giving you a great honor and we hope you accept it."  
I gasped and put it on speaker. "Yes?" I replied.  
"After much thinking, the conductor and director and I have decided that you are fit for the part of Christine Daaé."  
I couldn't hold it in. I screamed at the top of my lungs in happiness and Grandma joined in. After I calmed down, I said, "I accept, I accept, I accept a million times!"  
"Good, because all the other girls who auditioned could not handle Christine."  
"I can't thank you enough, when do rehearsals start?" I shrieked.  
"March seventeenth, same place you auditions. After that, every Thursday for a month and sometimes main characters will be called in on weekends."  
"That's absolutely fine, thank you!" I exclaimed.  
"And thank _you_," she replied. "See you there."  
"Bye!" I squealed. I hung up and screamed a little more with Grandma until I could hardly breathe and had to breathe in a paper bag for a while.

March seventeenth came before I knew it. I couldn't stay still in the car as Grandma drove me to the community center, but neither could she. We went in and I saw a sign that said, _POTO Rehearsals in Gymnasium today._ I didn't notice there was a gym but I found it and went in happily without Grandma, who said she would be there when it was over. The room already had what I believed to be a lot of the cast chatting merrily around. The directors were going through papers and I ran towards them and shrieked, "Avril Hills, I'm here."  
They all looked at me at the same time. The man who wasn't at the piano when I auditioned said, "Oh, good, we couldn't start without you." He turned to the mingling cast and shouted, "Attention, _Phantom_ cast!" All heads turned towards the directors and me. "Let's get into a circle now and…get to know each other."  
I stayed where I was as everyone else swiftly got into a circle. A guy no older than me with shaggy brown hair and rather familiar blue stood next to me but I was too excited to say he looked familiar, and I didn't really care. The guy who wasn't at the piano said, "Okay, so, I'm Frank, the director, and I'm very excited to be working with you all. I'll also be playing the retiring manager of the Opera Populaire."  
The woman said, "I'm Marine, I'll be choreographing and playing Madame Giry, who is also a choreographer."  
The man who was at the piano said, "My name is Pierre, I'm conducting and playing Monsieur Reyer, the conductor."  
Frank looked at me and said, "Introduce yourself.  
"Um, I'm Avril Hills, American, _sooooooooo_ excited to be here playing Christine!"  
"Avril Hills?" the guy next to me murmured. He saw everyone staring at me and said, "Oh, um, I'm Alex, I'm playing the Phantom of the Opera and I'm very happy to be here."  
When the next person, who was playing Firmin, introduced himself, Alex said, "I think I know you, we have to talk later."  
If that boy was Alexandre Moreau, I would attack him with a strangling hug. Whether he was or not, I was willing to stage-kiss him because he sounded nice.

When everyone introduced themselves, Frank asked Carlotta, Raoul, Andre and Firmin, Meg (who was to be played by the nice girl who gave me the audition form) me and the Phantom to come into a circle and talk. All of them were really nice and I knew this wouldn't be a shitty school play but an awesome semi-pro production. Frank later said that there was a chance that the Palais Garnier itself would let us perform a few shows at their theater, but not to get our hopes up. I promised myself that if I were to meet whoever's decision it was that I would beg until he or she said yes. When everyone was finished talking to their individual groups, it was five o'clock and everyone had to go. Before I went, the guy who was playing the Phantom tapped my shoulders and said, "Don't forget me, I wanted to talk to you."  
"Yeah, um, your name is Alex, you said?"  
"Um…I don't suppose you remember seeing _Carmen_ and hanging out with a little boy for the rest of the summer," he said with a smile.  
My mouth dropped. "Are you Alexandre Moreau?"  
He nodded. I screamed and hugged him as tightly as I could. "I can't believe it's you!" I exclaimed. "I was thinking about you on the plane and hoped I'd see you again but Paris is so big."  
"Oh, I've been wanting to track you down ever since you left but I didn't remember your grandmother's name!" he replied, just as excited as I was. I let go of him and sighed. "We need to hang out, Alex."  
"I was going to get dinner out, if you wanted to join me and ca—"  
"Yes! Please! Definitely!" I exclaimed. "My grandma should be outside."

Grandma was waiting in her car and I knocked on the window while Alex was getting his ride. I said to Grandma, "Grandma, I was reunited with Alex Moreau, is it okay if I go out to dinner with him?"  
"Oh my, Alex Moreau?" she exclaimed. "Your old friend when you visited?"  
"He's playing Erik!" I squealed.  
"Don't let me stop you," she said with a smile.  
"Thanks!" I exclaimed.  
Alex drove to me on a silver motor scooter. I shrieked, "Is that a motorcycle?"  
"It's a Vespa 250, thank you," he chuckled. He handed me a black helmet and I put it on. I sat behind him and once my arms were around his torso he sped out of the community center. He said over the motor, "So, how have you been?"  
"Since I got here, fine and dandy," I replied.  
"What made you decide to come back?"  
"I'm sick and tired of the crap I get from society in St. Cloud," I told him. "Everything there sucks. The schools, the food, the entertainment, everything. And I couldn't live with my mom anymore so my grandma gave me a place with her, which is so awesome. I'm really happy here, even more happy to be playing Christine and over the moon because you're here!"  
"Same!" he exclaimed. "My school did a production of _Phantom_ and I was in the chorus. No one there had a good time."  
"Some guy at a music store told me that a school did a bad production."  
"Was he scrawny, with black hair?" Alex asked.  
"Yeah."  
"That's Denny, a good friend of mine. He was a trumpeter in the orchestra and I convinced him not to quit because he was the only good trumpet player in the entire group."  
"Oh," I replied.  
"I was called back for Piangi but a mom threatened to sue so her son could get it. That was the last thing the school needed. So I wasn't Piangi."  
"I'm glad you're Erik, that character's just right for you. You deserve it!"  
"No, Avril, there is only one person here fit to play Christine and that's you."  
"All I needed was to be part of it," I replied. "Grandma would have gone to great lengths to give me a huge part but that wouldn't be necessary."  
"Of course not, you earned the part!" He suddenly stopped at a restaurant with tables outdoors. "I love this place. Wanna eat outside?"  
"Yeah, it's a really nice day," I replied.

So we ate outside and got caught up on twelve years' time apart from each other. I had more rants in me than information but he listened and added as I did to him. The whole time, I felt like he was trying to flirt with me but at the same time, I felt like the same thing I felt while auditioning, was watching. I tried to ignore the same feeling I felt when I was auditioning and focus on Alex. I did.


	5. Chapter 5

Alex drove me home and when I hopped off his Vespa I said, "You, sir, are so freakin' awesome, we should run lines together and stuff."  
"Sounds like a plan," he said. We hugged and I went inside.

Grandma said after greeting me, "So, did he try anything?"  
"What?!" I exclaimed.  
"You heard me, Avril, did he try anything? _Flirtait-il_?"  
"N-no," I said. "No, we're just friends. Best friends. We're gonna be running lines together, so get used to him."  
"I will, he's the kind of lad who will treat you right," Grandma said before I went to my room.  
"Because he's my friend," I said.  
"I know you like him like that now, but just be sure, if he tries anything and you like it, it's fine with me."  
"He's not gonna try anything and I'll have no reason to like it because it won't happen," I said. "I'm tired and smelly. I'm gonna take a shower and go to bed."  
"_Bonne nuit_," Grandma said. I could tell in her voice that she was convinced that Alex was going to be my boyfriend. Sure, he was cute, and he would totally treat me right and if I had to choose between him and Aaron Samuels from Mean Girls, I'd go for Alex. I pondered this before going to bed and when I went to sleep I had a lucid dream.

I was in the same dressing room I dreamt I was in the first night I was hearing the Phantom-like voice, and instead of in my pink fleece Hello Kitty pajama pants and black camisole, I was in a Victorian-ish white nightgown I had seen in a_Phantom_ production. I heard the same voice I had been hearing for a while say,_"Insolent boy, this slave of fashion, basking in your glory. Ignorant fool, this brave young suitor, sharing in my triumph."_  
I was able to reply, it being a lucid dream, "First of all, as I told my grandma, he's an old friend who's now a best friend and I like it like that. Second…who the fuck are you?"  
"Haven't you been paying attention to your dreams, Avril?" the voice said silkily. "You know who I am, but you're afraid of the truth."  
"You seem very powerful, like you've been watching me," I murmured. I shook my head and said louder, "But if you have been, you might know that it's very hard to scare me."  
"I'm aware of that, but you are afraid of something," the voice said.  
"I'm not afraid of you, mister sir," I said boldly. "It'd be pretty cool if you could show yourself."  
_"Flattering child, you shall know me,"_ the voice said. _"See why in shadow I hide."_I looked into the mirror of the dressing room and saw the very same Phantom appear beside me, but not for real. _"Look at your face in the mirror, I am there inside."_  
In the play, it seems that Christine is on an acid trip while she goes into the mirror and I didn't want to do that, even though I felt like I was on…something. It didn't make any sense that someone was playing with my dreams, so I told him so. "Are you, good sir, playing with my dreams?"  
"I was," the guy in the mirror said. "I'm not anymore."  
"Dreams are weird," I breathed.  
"Have you just realized that?"  
"No, I'm just remembering," I said. "But this is by far the strangest I've ever had."  
"What makes you think this is a dream?" he said.  
"Uhmm…I'm somewhere I've never been before, wearing something I've never worn before, I'm not feeling anything…I'm dreaming of what I believe to be a fictional character—"  
"Life has lied to you," he said. "This is as real as real is."  
"You're lying, you're a figment of my imagination," I said, even though I wasn't exactly so sure.  
"Am I?" he said.  
"Yes. This is a lucid dream, I can wake myself up if I want to."  
"Then, don't let me stop you," he scoffed.  
I pinched myself but nothing happened. I shook myself, nothing. I slapped myself, nada. I said, "Okay, maybe this isn't a lucid dream. I'll wake up at some point."  
"Of course you will," the voice said. "But that doesn't mean I'm a figment of your imagination."  
I sighed. "Well…who are you?"  
"Take a wild guess."  
"Um, well, it would be pretty sweet if I believed that you're the Phantom of the Opera, but where I'm from, those thoughts put you in straight jackets."  
"If they're imaginary," he said. "This is not."  
"I respect your opinion, but I'm very sure I'm just having a hard time waking up and am just going to enjoy this weird dream while it lasts for the maximum fifteen minutes."  
"If that's what you believe, fine, I have no power to stop you. But I can disagree, can't I?"  
"Doesn't mean I'll listen to you," I replied. "But to each his own."  
"Hmm," he murmured. "You're a difficult one."  
"That's not the first time I heard that remark," I said. "From teachers, it's an insult."  
"I hope I don't offend you," he said.  
"You don't," I replied. "You're not a teacher."  
"Not like the ones you've had, but I have taught you a thing or two."  
"Yeah? Like what?"  
"Well, what have you learned from _The Phantom of the Opera,_ the novel?"  
"Um…some people can be scary but if you like them enough, you can get past it. My mom's scary and I don't like her enough. The Phantom is supposed to be scary but I like him enough to not see that, just yell at him for doing some sordid things but forgive him later. To quote him, _fear can turn to love_."  
"Gaston Leroux did not teach you anything," he said. "I did."  
"Well, by how you're talking, you seem to be just a character that came out of his head, so he really did teach me that."  
"Gaston Leroux was just a fool who wanted to write something better than the pieces of shit he tried writing before," he scoffed.  
"Well, his things before _Phantom_ weren't that good, I'll give you that," I said.  
"Yes, you should, because I wrote it," he said.  
"You wrote _The Phantom of the Opera_?" I said.  
"I did," he replied. "I wrote the book, the musical, the movie adaptation from two thousand four."  
"Did you write the other movies?"  
"I did not, but I wish I did because they were awful."  
"You're right," I said. "So…you wrote everything? And gave Leroux and Andrew Lloyd Webber credit?"  
"They didn't know it was me," he said. "Leroux never investigated the Paris Commune, I did behind everyone's backs, but he heard about a body down there and wanted to write something about it but he couldn't, so I, out of pity, did for him. I told him not to take advantage of the fame he would get but he did and forgot about me."  
"He died of a urinary tract infection…right?"  
"Yes," he said.  
"Don't tell me you caused it," I said, really believing this was the Phantom for a moment.  
"I did not cause it," he replied.  
"Good…'cause that's not cool." After a pause, I asked, "So if you wrote it and put yourself in it…is it a biography?"  
"No, it was just thoughts. What would happen if, what would I do, what would other people do. It turned out to be well written but I myself couldn't publish it."  
"Why not?"  
"I don't know, maybe I'm just a solitary type and I prefer to watch people become famous because of me than become famous myself. I like the satisfaction of how I helped; they couldn't have done it without me."  
"Whatever floats your boat," I said.  
"And, as long as they don't become purple bastards about their fame, I'll remain pleased with myself and them."  
"M'kay, as long as that makes you happy." After a while, I realized what he was doing in my dreams. "Are you tutoring me so you can get this satisfying feeling?"  
"I am, but you don't require a lot of help," he said.  
"Um, thanks. But I won't be too famous."  
"But you're the star of a show at the Palais Garnier," he replied with a smirk. "You'll definitely be famous for it."  
"No, it's only a chance that I'll be there," I replied.  
"You'll be there, Avril," he said.  
"Because of you?" I asked.  
He nodded. I weakly smiled. "Thanks, that's pretty cool." After a silent pause, I asked, "So…why are you behind the mirror?"  
"Why aren't you?" he asked.  
"Um…you haven't invited me and I'm not too keen on that."  
"Scared?" he smirked.  
"No!" I exclaimed. "I am not scared, not one little bit! I'm just weirded out."  
"There is no reason to be _weirded out,"_ he said as if he never heard the phrase before. "Just trust me."  
"Rape me and I'll snap your neck, sonnyjim," I said.  
"What makes you think I'd do that?" he asked seriously.  
"I…I dunno."  
"Come, Avril," he said softly. _"Come to me, angel of music…"_  
I gave up. He was soooo freaking hot. He wanted me over there with him and I didn't think he'd hurt me so I slowly got up and walked towards the mirror. He held out his black-gloved hand behind the mirror and I figured I could just reach in and I could. I did. I stepped up into the mirror until I was in a candlelit beige hall, hand-in-hand with the actual Phantom of the Opera, the ghostwriter for Gaston Leroux and Andrew Lloyd Webber. And some weird guy I developed a gigantic crush on. He slowly led me down the hall and I trembled. I was in the presence of the same guy who is armed with a Punjab lasso and kills people with it, but apparently wanted to get romantically involved with me. I knew very well he had the power to kill me if I denied or do something bad that I didn't want but I didn't want to deny him. After some slow walking, he said, "You're trembling, Avril."  
"A-am I?" I asked nervously.  
"Don't be frightened, I promised not to hurt you, and I wouldn't no matter what."  
"I'm not scared," I said. After a while, I realized I told a lie. A big, fat ugly lie. For the first time in my life, I was actually really scared. I still wasn't sure if I was dreaming or not but no matter what, I was terrified. I tried to stop shuddering but no such luck.

He halted at an actual lake with a boat. I had read that there was indeed a lake under the Palais Garnier and firefighters used it to practice swimming in the dark. But I was still trying to wake up from a weird dream. He was about to help me in but I said, "N-nah, I got it." I got on, still shaking like a leaf. I gave myself subtle but brutal pinches and I thought the guy wasn't looking. But after a while of super awkward silence and no waking up, he said, "You can stop it now, you're not dreaming. You're quite awake."  
"I…I'm not sure I wanna be," I said.  
"Scared?" he smirked.  
As if we were obnoxious little kids who didn't want to admit we were chicken, I lied, "I'm not scared at all."  
"Then, what are you?"  
"Confused out of my wits," I said.  
"What? Didn't I answer all your questions?"  
"N-n-yeah, but it's hard to process. You say you are t-the Phantom of the Opera…Erik is your name…"  
"It's just a word that comes out of the mouths of people who choose to say it," he says. "Not many do when they mean me."  
"That's deep," I said. "If you are the Phantom of the Opera…is this…the Paris Opera House?"  
"It is," he replied.  
I never break into song, I only chime in or mumble to a song that's already playing, but I blurted very quietly, "_And do I dream again, for now I find…the Phantom of the Opera is there…inside my mind…"_  
I noticed him grin a really hot smile. That meant he liked it. I tried to hold in a bright red blush but I couldn't. I heard something rusty move and saw there was a gate with algae on the pointy bottoms. It was more extravagant than any Phantom's lair I've ever seen. It had all those candles, an organ with golden pipes, a plush red bed-like thing, but…more indescribable things. He rowed to the edge and I said, "I'm really weirded out again…then again, I never stopped being weirded out." The boat stopped and I breathed, "My sanity is hanging on a string."  
He replied as he got off the boat, "Perhaps that may be a good thing." He offered me his hand and I accepted it. He helped me up and continued, "I'm sure you know why you're here."  
"_The seat of sweet music's throne,"_ I quoted, looking around.  
"Do you still think you're dreaming?"  
"Yup," I replied.  
"For God's sake, Avril, convince yourself you're not dreaming."  
"For God's sake, Erik, convince yourself I'm in disbelief because I'm used to you being a fictional character."  
He stepped closer to me until he was very close, close enough to put some of my hair behind my ear and slide his soft gloved hand down my neck. He said, "Well, get used to it."  
I epically failed keeping in a shiver of half-terror, half-pleasure. He smirked a smirk I loved seeing as he walked backwards to a wooden box. Still looking at me, he opened it and I saw a record player with a blank record already in it. I tried to keep my cool and said, "Um, record player, cool, don't see them much anymore."  
A really beautiful song I hadn't heard before came on, surprisingly clear, considering it appeared to be a really old record player. He strutted towards me and offered his right hand. "Dance?" he said.  
"Um…I'm not real good, but…okay." If he were someone else, perhaps not as hot, I'd refuse but there was something about him that made me not want to refuse. I took his hand and let him put his free hand on my waist. I nervously put my other hand on his shoulder but realized I wanted to be closer so I wrapped it closer around his neck. He allowed me to do so and we slowdanced in silence for a while. I was really…I dunno, _savoring each sensation_, but I was also pretty scared. I murmured, "I-I'll admit, I'm creeped out right now."  
"Why?" he said.  
"Look at me, I'm dancing with what I was pretty frickin' sure was a fictional character, but now I'm here, he claims I'm not dreaming but I feel like I am…this is pretty cool…but pretty scary."  
"It's okay to be afraid…but don't fear me," he said.  
"I'm not scared of you…" I muttered. I added nervously a little later, "But…scared of what's happening."  
"Are you?"  
"Have you been listening to me at all?" I said. "I was a million percent sure you're a work of fiction, a really awesome fiction, now you've presented yourself and I really wanna stay sane and believe I'm dreaming but you're not letting me…" I realized how incredibly close I was to a probably complete stranger whom I know everything about. I ran out of words and he broke the ice. He smashed his lips soft and cold lips against mine, which were still trembling. I was shocked and showed it at first until I realized I wanted to enjoy it and he was giving me the opportunity to by doing the work. So I closed my eyes and enjoyed it.  
I've never had a boyfriend, a love interest, even a crush (on people available to me). So, I've never kissed a boy. I didn't think I'd be any good at it and I wasn't so sure that Erik would be awesome either, considering that in the book and movies he's a virgin, but he was fantastic. It was so long, if people were watching it in a movie and it wasn't a porno or something, they would get bored. But we weren't bored. Erik said, "Real enough?"  
After a pause, I murmured, "I…I…thanks, man…I think I needed that." And then I passed out like a wimp.


	6. Chapter 6

I woke up in my bed, in my black camisole and Hello Kitty pajamas, as if I didn't have that weird dream at all. I hoped it was just a crazy dream but had to stop believing when I saw a perfect red rose with a black ribbon tied around it. Under it was an envelope closed with a wax stamp with a red skull on it. Those were the Phantom's signatures. I shivered as I picked the note up and opened it so cautiously it would seem that I was worried that Chucky would jump out at me. Of course, he didn't and I wasn't scared of that. I read the note with no harm coming to me, even though I was creeped out. It said,  
"Mon cher _Avril,  
Forgive me if the visit to the Fifth Cellar of what was indeed the Palais Garnier was too "creepy." Get used to it, for you shall be seeing much more of me. You may not seem to like it, but we both know you do. I suppose you could say…The Phantom of the Opera is there inside your mind…  
O.G., or as you perhaps would like to know me, Erik._"  
I reread it, admiring the fancy handwriting that seemed to be written a kazillion years ago (which means in 1870 or something). I reluctantly started to believe that the Phantom of the Opera was there inside my mind and as much as I hated myself for believing in such a silly fictional thing, I kinda liked the idea.

After I took a shower and got dressed, I went into the kitchen to find Grandma, at the informal table with a cup of tea and a bowl of Cheerios reading a newspaper. She heard me come in and said, looking at me, "Wow, Avril, you seemed to be sleeping like a rock all night. You tossed and turned but last night I thought you were out for a walk or something!"  
"Oh?" I mumbled. "Huh…all of a sudden I stop tossing and turning as if I weren't there?"  
"Mhmm. Sit down, eat. Bowls are in the cabinet on your right."  
When I finished my breakfast, my cell phone rang. I picked it up and saw it was Alex. I smiled and answered, "Hey, Alex, what the hell makes you wanna call at nine in the fraggin' morning?"  
"Oh, sorry, did I wake you? I'm kind of an early bird," Alex chuckled.  
"Nah, I've been awake, just messin' with you," I replied. "'Sup?"  
"Are you free today? I wanted to call the other cast members and meet up for lunch or something to run lines. It might also be good advertising, y'know, when people ask what we're doing."  
"Ooh, good idea," I replied. "Hang on." I turned to Grandma. "Alex wants to run lines today."  
"Just you and him?" Grandma smirked.  
I rolled my eyes with a smile. "No, with others. Cool with you?"  
"Of course it is."  
I went back to my phone. "My grandma says yes."  
"Cool! I'll call you when I get everyone else. You're the first one."  
"Okay. See you soon!"  
"Bye!"  
I hung up and Grandma was looking at me with a smug look. I replied, "What, Grandma?!"  
"He is madly in love with you, Avril," she smirked.  
"Grandma, do you know the term _friendzone?_"  
"I go out sometimes, Avril, I know," Grandma replied before taking a sip of tea.  
"Well, if he is madly in love with me, he's been _friendzoned_ and there's nothing anyone can do about it. 'Kay?"  
She chuckled. "If it brings you pleasure."  
"It does, madam, it does," I replied.

Alex and I met with Emily, the girl who plays Meg, Lucile, the girl who plays Carlotta, and Greg, Alex's best friend who also plays Raoul, at a diner with outdoor seating. After we ordered, we started at the scene after the auction. Lucile wasn't an awful singer, in fact, pretty good, and if Pierre didn't think so, he's stupid. I used my script less than everyone else, which impressed the crap out of them. I was quite aware I was being watched with amazement with the group and other people, but I felt the same mysterious presence I felt auditioning. I had the same feeling when I was with, what I half-really believed was, Erik. It didn't get in the way but I was really creeped out. Again. I survived and we did all the relevant parts. When we reached the part where Raoul and Christine kiss, I said, "So how are we doing this? It's gotta be good and convincing."  
"F-for real?" Greg said.  
"It appears as if it is what we must do." Greg was cute but I was not attracted to him. Even though I was concerned that the Phantom of the Opera would not appreciate it, I'd try to convince him that we're friends if he told me. "Well, come on." I sang, _"Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime. Say the word and I will follow you…"_  
He chimed in, _"Share each day with me, each night, each morning."_  
I sang, _"Say you love me,"_  
_"You know I do,"_ he replied.  
I gave him a thumbs up before we sang together and everyone outside, not just the cast, watched, _"Love me—that's all I ask of you…"_ We leaned forward to each other, Greg more nervous than I was, and kissed. It wasn't a smooch or makeout, just a kiss. It didn't last long but I could see our little audience were smiling as if we had just gotten married. We both sang, _"Anywhere you go, let me go too…love me—that's all I ask of you."_ Some of the restaurant customers and waiters clapped and it got muffled when I heard in my head, _Avril, that was lovely, but that does not mean I liked the kiss._  
It seemed to be Erik. If he were _inside my mind_, he could possibly hear my thoughts. So I thought, _take it easy, dude, it's in the script you wrote._  
He replied, so I didn't think it was my conscience, _You weren't around when I wrote it, how was I supposed to think of you!?_  
I sighed out loud and thought, _Sorry it doesn't please you, but please let me continue practicing with my friends. Greg is my friend and if he likes me, he shall be rejected. Nicely. Go away._  
He didn't reply. We finished rehearsing in peace. Even though I also kissed Alex, Erik didn't bother me but I felt like someone was angry. I tried to ignore it but I would apologize to him if he visited me in my dreams.

Alex took me back to Grandma's on his Vespa. As we did, we sang the theme song, trying to project over the motor. We finished by the time we got there. I got off the Vespa and said, "Thanks for this, Alex, I had a great time."  
He looked as if he really wanted to kiss me again, but you're not es'posted to do that with a friendzoned person. He'd get the wrong idea. I gave him a tight hug and he patted my back. "See ya," I said before skipping into the house.


	7. Chapter 7

Grandma and I had dinner. She saw someone out the window and exclaimed, "Oh, it's my favorite postman! I'll be back." She went to the door and answered him happily. After a few minutes, she returned, sorting the mail. Her calm face turned into one of shock when she saw a letter. "Um…Avril…di-did you go to Guthrie High School?"  
"Oh, crap," I murmured.  
She put the mail on the table, sat down and opened the letter. "_Dear Miss_…oh, for heaven's sake, they misspelled my name!"  
"That's the principal for you," I scoffed.  
_"We cannot reach Miss Hills, so we hope you will reply to us. Avril Hills, 11th grader, has not been in school for about a month. She cannot just up and leave. If she is with you, please contact us immediately.  
Mitchell Emerson, Principal."_  
"Why can't they just leave me the fuck alone?!" I hissed, near tears. "Please don't reply, Grandma!"  
She tore it up, spat on it, tore it up some more, shoved it in the sink and shredded it. "Your place is here, Avril, it'll be okay."  
She comforted me until I excused her to bed because I was tired, too. But I couldn't sleep. I put on my green fuzzy slippers and crept outside. The street's only sound was a slow and probably single cricket making an occasional chirp. In just my Hello Kitty pajama pants and a camisole, I went outside in the cold and sat in one of the chairs, shivering a little. The only thing on my mind was school, how much it sucked, how glad I was to be out of there, how worried I was that they might be out to get me. Tears raced down my flushing but freezing face. I felt something warm come onto my shoulders. A blanket or cloak or something. I turned my head and only heard footsteps running away. "E-Erik," I murmured. When my head faced forward, I felt something go on my shoulders—a black cloak. I looked back again and saw nothing. I looked forward again and saw an envelope closed with a red wax skull stamp. From Erik, of course. I picked it up and opened it. _"Avril,"_ it said. _"I'm concerned that my presence frightens you. But I wish with all my broken heart that you would come to the Palais Garnier, which is vacant tonight, to see me. There is an entrance in the back that would lead you to me. You will know it when you see it. Please come.  
-O.G."_  
He invited me. The Phantom of the Opera, who is real, wanted me to come to his lair in the actual Palais Garnier. What else would a Phangirl do but obey? I got up and trusted my instincts to find the way to the Palais Garnier. Not a lot of people were on the streets, but the ones who were paid no attention to the maroon-haired chick in the fuzzy slippers and pajamas with a Victorian cloak that seemed out of place in every way.

The back of the Palais Garnier was just dark windows. The only light was from the moon…and a dim light coming from a window on the ground with bars over it. I pried the bars open and slid in. When I landed on my feet on beige concrete, I heard really beautiful piano music. I followed it and when it was completely loud and clear, I was in the Phantom's lair. He was sitting at the golden organ, looking like he was composing. I murmured when I was standing by him, "Um…hey, Erik."  
He turned to me, "Welcome back, Avril," he purred as he stood up. He gently took my hand and kissed it. I melted a little. But I didn't faint. I looked at the thing he was composing and he said, "I don't expect you to like it at all."  
"Are you kidding me?" I chuckled. "This…this just looks good." I put it on the stand and said, looking him straight in the eyes with one peeking out of a pure white mask, "Play it for me. Please. Please play it for me."  
"Only if you'll sing," he said. "I'll be embarrassed without you.  
I shyly shook my head. "I—I can't do that. I'm not that good," I replied, lowering my head.  
He lifted my head with his curved index finger. "You may be too good, _mon cher."_  
I gave a tiny laugh. "You're sweet."  
He sat me down on the bench and purred in my ear, caressing my shoulders,_"Sing, my angel of music. Sing for me."_  
"O-okay," I murmured.  
He sat down beside me, turned to the first page and started playing. I looked closer to the words and nervously sang for him. With every high note I did, Erik seemed to smile more and more. He stopped at the unfinished part and I said after a silent pause, "W-wow…that was something."  
"Your talent never ceases to amaze me," Erik said, reaching behind me to stroke my hair. I trembled a little and he said, "You're frightened, aren't you, Avril."  
He was coaxing me to tell the truth. Facing him, I asked quietly, "Am I a Christine to you…or what?"  
He leaned forward to me just a tiny bit and kissed me. When my shock was gone, I let myself close my eyes and enjoy it more. It was a long kiss, and a really hot one. It lasted a long time, but when he let go, it seemed too short. Just half an inch from me, Erik said, "Yes. I love you, Avril."  
I'm not really one of those fast types, but Erik made me change my mind. Well, I always loved the fictional character and I would have given anything to have him in real life, and this was my opportunity! I responded, "I…I love you, too, Erik."  
He kissed me again and when it was over, he said, "You look tired."  
"I kinda am," I sighed.  
"Allow me to play you to sleep," he said.  
I smiled. "That sounds nice."  
He got up and looked in a bookshelf. "Let's see what I have."  
"Surprise me," I said.  
"Aha," he said. He brought a book to the organ and replaced it with the thing he was composing. He started playing something really pretty and let me lean my head on his shoulder. I tried not to fall right to sleep because I wanted to listen to it, but after a while I fell asleep.

I woke up in my bed and hoped that it wasn't a dream. On the shelf behind me was an envelope with a red wax skull stamp. I opened it and it said, _"Avril,_ mon amour,  
_Thank you for coming. Next time, if you don't object, I'll visit you.  
O.G."_  
I smiled. I guessed I had a boyfriend and that was cool.


	8. Chapter 8

For the next few days, Erik would visit me and just hung out. On Wednesday, the night before rehearsals, Erik said to me while we sat on Grandma's porch, "You'll be kissing that Alexandre fellow, won't you?"  
"It's acting, Erik, and we're just friends. Everyone there I kiss are just my friends. It's what it takes to bring your super awesome play to life. Deal with it," I said.  
"He _likes_ you, Avril," he said.  
"I like him too," I replied. He looked a little shocked. "As a friend. A best, good friend. 'Cause that's what we are. Best friends." Erik gave me a look. I continued, "I know he likes me and he doesn't understand that I'm very interested in being best friends forever and nothing else. You, on the other hand, are something else. You know I'm your biggest fan and if anyone should be really excited that you're my boyfriend or something, it should be me." The look didn't leave his masked face. "Punjab lasso him and I'll Punjab lasso you."  
"Avril, does it make any sense that someone who has been living the same age since 1855 can die by Punjab lasso?"  
I shrugged. "In your 2004 movie, you might have died if Raoul stabbed you with a sword."  
"Through the heart," Erik replied. "That may be how I could die. I've tried hanging myself, no such luck." He gave me a smile. "With you, I'll never do anything like that again."  
I smiled back. "Neither will I."  
We were doing really good as boyfriend and girlfriend.

On a Wednesday, main characters had to come to the community center to see the costumes. Erik told me that the owner of the Palais Garnier was going to let us perform there, but Frank didn't say anything. I was telling Grandma all about the costumes and reminding her that whether she and Alex liked it or not, we were just friends and they both had to deal with it. At around eight P.M., the phone rang while I was watching the 1925 version of _The Phantom of the Opera_with Grandma. She put it on speaker and answered, "_Bonjour_, unfamiliar number."  
"Is this Annette Cormier?" a stern, familiar voice said.  
"Oui, who's this?"  
"This is Michell Emerson, principal of Guthrie High School in St. Cloud."  
Grandma looked at me and saw my frightened face. I shook my head and she replied to that asshole Emerson, "And I should give a damn because…?"  
"Because we know that Avril Hills is living with you and you did not sign her out of school like you're supposed to."  
"Avril Hills? She's never been near me in years! She's not in Paris."  
"Then, why did I see an article on the world news on CNN that a community theater in Paris will be performing _The Phantom of the Opera_ at the Palais Garnier, starring American teen Avril Hills as Christine Daae?"  
Our mouths dropped. It was really good to hear that I would be performing at the Palais Garnier, but it sucked to hear that he knew. Grandma replied nervously, "Well, Avril is a common name in Paris. It could be anyone."  
"The article said, and I quote, _'Avril Hills, an American living with her grandmother Annette Cormier, 'earned the honor of playing Christine,' according to Marine du Pont, the choreographer._' That sounds like my student and if she doesn't come back before the summer, I'll see that you're in huge trouble."  
I couldn't contain my anger any more. I shouted, "Listen close, you asshole, no one in your so-called _award winning high school_ treated me right, so Avril's pretty glad to be gone. Stop calling us! We're not gonna do anything you say because you're an asshole!" I hung up the phone and cried. Grandma rubbed my back and said, "There, there, baby. They won't take you away from me."  
I sniffled and replied, "Don't answer them again, Grandma. Please don't."  
"I won't," she replied.  
"I need some alone time," I sighed.  
"Okay, Avril," Grandma said as I got up. "If you need anything, I'm right here."  
I needed to see Erik. I wasn't feeling watched or anything, so I went to my room and hopped out the window to go to the Fifth Cellar of the Palais Garnier.


	9. Chapter 9

I opened the window leading to Erik's lair and hurried in. He was composing something. I was crying a little and he saw me. "Avril," he said, walking towards me.  
I ran towards him and hopped into his arms. "Erik," I cried. "The school. That god-awful school in god-awful America…for some reason, the same people who wanted me dead want me back." After a few sobs, I added, "I don't wanna go. I wanna stay in Paris. With you."  
"They won't take you away from me, _mon cher,_" he whispered to me. After a pause, he sang, _"Anywhere you go, let me go, too. Love me, that's all I ask of you."_  
I smiled, leaning my forehead on his shoulder. "You're a hell of a lot awesomer than Greg. And Alex. You're the Phantom of the Opera…and I love you."  
Stroking my hair, he replied softly, "I love you, too, Avril."  
I looked at his organ. "Are you continuing the song I sang for you?"  
"I finished it," he replied. "I sent it to an American songwriter, allowing him to take credit for a fee."  
"What are you doing now?" I asked.  
He smiled. "Something for you."  
I blushed. "You don't have to do that, Erik, everything you do is sweet."  
"Well, I did it," he said. "Perhaps it'll make you feel better."  
"Better than you made me," I replied. "Sure, I'd like to hear it. Everything you do rocks."  
He led me to the bench and turned to the first page of the composition. He started playing and after a few notes, he sang. He sang beautifully. Every note, high or low he hit was fantastic. Everything was so awesome. When he stopped at where he left off, I said, "That was…fantastic, Erik. Thank you."  
After softly kissing my forehead, he replied, "You look tired, Avril. Perhaps you should sleep."  
"Stay with me this time," I said. "I want you to sleep, too. You never seem to."  
He picked me up and led me to the same red bed with a peacock-shaped base. I said, "Um…I can walk there, you know."  
He gently put me down on the bed, "Well, perhaps I don't want you to." He joined me on the bed and pulled me closer to him. Curling his soft fingers in my hair, he started singing _Music of the Night_ to me. I fell asleep when he finished.

I woke up not in my own bed in Grandma's house, but in the same place I recalled falling asleep in. The Fifth Cellar of the Palais Garnier. The Phantom of the Opera to others, or to me, Erik, my boyfriend's lair. I found him at the organ, wearing a loose white poet shirt exposing some of his muscular chest, his sleek black hair which was usually gelled back loose around his ears and the mask still on his face. Just like the _I Remember There Was Mist_ part in the play/movie. I hated that part but I had an excuse to reenact it because I felt like it would be a good time to unmask him. I wasn't scared of him at all. I loved him. So I sang after I opened the sheer black curtains surrounding the bed, "_I remember there was mist…swirling mist upon a vast, glassy lake…there were candles all around and on the lake there was a boat… and in the boat there was a man…_"  
As if I wasn't quoting his awesome play, he just looked back at me. I continued when I was close enough to unmask him, _"Who was that shape in the shadows? Whose is the face in the mask?"_ After caressing the soft skin on his neck a little, I swiftly took the mask off. He covered the half of his face and jumped off the bench, pushing me to the floor. "Avril!" he cried without looking at me. "W-what did you do that for?"  
"Chill, dude, I just wanted to see," I said.  
He turned his face, which was still covered by his hand, to me. "You would hate me if you did. It's worse than you think. It does resemble a rotting corpse."  
"The rest of you is hot," I said, standing up as he turned away from me. "It's a minor flaw, everyone's got one. Have you seen Sarah Jessica Parker's face? _That's_gross, yet Matthew Broderick still loves her and they have adorable children." I forced him to turn towards me. "I swear on my life I won't scream or anything."  
"Not right now, Avril," he breathed. "Please…not right now."  
I sighed. "Fine." I handed him the mask and he turned away from me to put it back on.  
When he turned back to me, he said, "If you'd like to see the stage in person, I could show you now."  
"Cool," I said with a smile.


	10. Chapter 10

The stage at school was pretty big. The community center's was bigger. The stage at the Palais Garnier was colossal. Squeaky clean, too. Erik had a secret passage through the real Box Five from his lair and to the stage. I stood in the center, looking at the lights on the pillars, which Erik turned on the dim setting for me to see. "Ho. Ly. Crap." I murmured.  
I felt Erik's arms go around my waist. "And soon, you will be performing here."  
I leaned my head on his shoulder. "Thanks to you, boyfriend."  
His soft bare hands crept up my torso and to my neck. He turned me around and embraced me until we were sorta making out. We were lying on the rock-hard stage and we might have looked like we were having sex or something…I'm not saying we didn't.

Erik walked me home after we were finished with whatever we were doing. It turned out to be five in the morning and Grandma was asleep. I went to my room and slept a little until seven, when she was making breakfast.

While eating and talking like we never got the call from the school, the phone rang. I recognized Marine's number on the caller ID. I put it on speaker and answered, "Whaddup?"  
"Avril? It's Marine."  
"Hey, Marine," I said. "Whaddup?"  
"A lot," she chuckled. "I'm calling everyone to let them know…from now on, rehearsals will be at the Palais Garnier because we will be performing all of our shows there."  
Grandma had heard it before from an awful person but both of us screamed in excitement. "Thanks, Marine! Five o'clock?"  
"Yes," Marine replied. "See you then."  
"Bye." I hung up. Grandma and I screamed again.

Alex called at eleven A.M while Grandma and I were running lines. "Hey, Alex," I answered. "Did you hear the big news?"  
"I sure did!" he replied cheerfully. "Can you believe it?!"  
I definitely could. "It's a dream come true!"  
"Think you got your lines all down?"  
"My grandma's making sure. I'm doing good, I think."  
"Well, wanna go out this afternoon before rehearsals? Go to the diner and run lines or something?"  
This would piss Erik off in great ways, but I said, "Yeah, sure."  
"Cool. I'll pick you up at four, perhaps?"  
"See you then. Bye." I put the phone down. Grandma gave me a look. "What?!" I exclaimed.  
"Avril, he loves you. A lot. If you don't love him, maybe he'll turn into a younger, mortal Phantom of the Opera and kill your lover."  
I had a lover, but Grandma was joking. "Very funny, Grandma, but Gerard Butler himself is more of a killer than Alex could be."  
Grandma sighed dreamily. "If only I were in my forties and still young and hot, I would be _roulement dans le foin_ with him all the time."  
I flinched. "W-what does that mean?"  
She covered her mouth. "Um…it's…a little gross."  
"You're a cool grandma," I said, patting her shoulder.

Alex picked me up at four and took me to dinner, where we practiced _Music of the Night, I Remember there was Mist_ and the end scene. Alex was a fantastic singer. Nothing was wrong with him. No one could do anything to fix him at all because there was nothing to fix. But Erik, my boyfriend Erik, was a hell of a lot better. Alex was good at portraying Erik, but the real Erik was better than anyone could be. But I didn't really want Alex to know that I was seeing an actual Phantom. So I didn't tell him anything but that he's awesome. We made it to the Palais Garnier right at five o'clock.

The main hall of the opera house was even more amazing than I remembered, with squeaky-clean floors and walls, bright lights, and majestic stairs. Sitting on the steps or standing somewhere and talking were most of the cast. Marine was talking to Pierre and Frank was on his cell phone with an excited smile. "Who do you think he's talking to?" I asked Alex.  
"Iono, someone big, I guess," Alex replied.  
I saw Frank hang up and run to Pierre and Marine. They all looked like something big had happened because they were shrieking. I could barely hear them over the chatter. When Frank, Pierre and Marine were done shrieking, Pierre shouted, "Attention!" Everyone fell silent.  
"We have big news," Frank said. "But first, let's go into the theater."

The theater was still super-amazing. I felt like I was going to faint. I told Emily this and she led me to the stage, where we told to stand. When everyone was done admiring the great theater and looking at Pierre, Marine and Frank with the orchestra in the pit, Frank said. "So, we have a big day planned. We're gonna do a full run-through, with all the costumes we have and microphones. Just a few rules, though. This is not our theater. There are props that aren't ours, but they're hidden away. Still, don't touch them. Only touch your own props. The walls aren't soundproof, so if you have to talk backstage, you must whisper. And have fun. But big news, we have a lot of people coming. People from a company in America called Fathom Events will be coming and filming us live in three weeks, when it's opening night. We'll be in theaters live all over the United States. There will be reporters, newspapers, critics. So we have to do our best. We have to be perfect, because we'll be having two guests of honor."  
"Who?" I asked.  
"Joel Shmaucher and Andrew Lloyd Webber. In person. Here. May First. Sitting in Box Five and attending the cast party dinner after opening night right in the ballroom for everyone to meet."  
Everyone screamed in excitement, but my screams were louder by far. Even though it wasn't Andrew Lloyd Webber who wrote the musical/movie, I was excited. I didn't know if it was Erik who brought him. I saw him in what I figured to be Box Five because he was there, giving a little smile. "Was it you?" I lipped to him.  
He shook his head. I raised my eyebrows and continued screaming until everyone was out of breath.


	11. Chapter 11

They gave me my own frickin' dressing room. It was the dressing room I found myself in when I first saw Erik in person. I heard something tear a little in my costume and I said, "Oh, crap." I turned around and saw Erik standing right there. I jumped a little at the sight with him. "Erik, what are you doing here?"  
"You're putting the top on the wrong way, Avril," he said. "I came to help you."  
I was comfortable taking it off in front of him. I was wearing one of those two-piece bellydancer thingies like in the movie. I was wearing a bra under the top, which was spandex but impossible to put in. I put my head in first, which was wrong, the arms go first. Erik helped me in it and I said, "Thanks, Erik."  
"You should get going."  
I gave him a quick kiss goodbye and ran.

I played Christine in full costume pretty well. I saw Erik, peering out of Box Five. Pierre had to whisper during _Think Of Me_ not to look at Box Five. I took one peek and saw Erik show me that it was fine. So I sang my heart out until Act One was over.

I found Erik in my dressing room, examining the dress I was to wear for the Masquerade scene. "Not bad at all," he said.  
"And they expect a seventeen-year-old to lace up her own dress," I sighed. "Mind helping me?"  
"Not at all."  
As he laced it up for me, he said suspiciously, "The kiss you shared with the boy who plays Raoul, quite convincing."  
"Erik, there is only one person in the entire world who I will ever love. He's in this room," I said. I felt him finish tie the lace and I turned to him. "Thanks."

For the next few weeks, I spent a few nights in the Fifth Cellar with the real Phantom of the Opera, singing for him if he'd sing for me when I was done. I'd be home just in time before Grandma woke up. Exactly two weeks before May First, Grandma and I were eating breakfast and all I could think of was the fun night with Erik I had the night before. She said when she put her cereal down, "So, I heard there will be a semi-formal cast party with Andrew _Fucking_ Lloyd Webber and Joel Shmaucher there."  
She got my attention at the _f_ word. "Mouth, old lady," I said.  
"Avril, you will be up close and personal with a respected composer and director of the greatest film ever. You have the opportunity to speak to them. And I'm not allowed to be there, if you can believe it."  
"I can pull some strings," I said. "If you really wanna—"  
"No. It is you who is more deserving to meet two gods. And you have to dress to impress. And I need something fancy to wear at the Opera House because you don't go in there wearing a Cosby sweater and jeans."  
I chuckled and said, "So…what are you driving at?"  
"An owner of a single yet popular and quite expensive store is a good friend of mine and owes me a favor. We're buying dresses."  
"Oh, Grandma, it's fine, I might have brought something—"  
"Something not good enough," Grandma said. "I insist."  
I couldn't protest anymore. I smiled and said, "When?"  
"Eleven. I'll take us out for lunch afterwards."

The dresses at the store were crazy gorgeous and insanely expensive. Grandma said not to worry. She found herself a long-sleeved slightly off-shoulder dark blue dress for fifteen hundred euro, with a set of pearls for two hundred fifty euro. The owner of the store lowered the price to eight hundred euro. I kept walking around, looking at all of the exquisite dresses on racks until I was the one, on a mannequin. It was a dark purple, kind of sparkly sheath dress with a sweetheart neckline down to the knees. Around the bodice were folds that led to swirls that looked kind of like roses. On the mannequin was also a crystal necklace with two silver chains leading to, what I realized was cubic zirconia, flowers. In the middle was a bigger flower with a silver chain leading to a purple pearl. On the mannequin's plastic head were earrings with matching cubic zirconia flower studs and purple pearls. On the manniquin's feet were sparkly purple ballet flats that matched the dress. I stared at in awe until the shopowner came up to me. "Ah, good choice, Avril. There are only five of these in the world."  
I saw a price tag that said five thousand euro. I gasped and said, "I see why it's so expensive."  
"Oh, it's been there for months. I can't seem to get rid of it. No charge. I'll even throw in the jewelry."  
My mouth dropped at him. "A-are you sure?"  
"Oh, well, it doesn't mean it fits you," she said. "Let's try it on."

The dress was…amazing. I could breathe, I could move and as I stared at myself in the mirror, it took me a few minutes to realize that the reflection was me. "Are you sure you'll just give it to us, Madeleine?" Grandma asked.  
"Of course," she replied. "I owe you big after…um…that thing."  
"What was it, anyway?" I asked.  
"I'd…rather not talk about it," she said.  
"Yeah, neither would I," Grandma replied. "We'll just take it, and thank you."


	12. Chapter 12

The two weeks flew right by. We had dress rehearsals every night until Friday, when it was the opening night. Everyone was practically perfect. There would be nothing wrong with the show. Andrew _Fucking_ Lloyd Webber, as Grandma called him because she was so excited for me to meet him, and Joel Shmaucher were staying at a nearby hotel. I came to the Palais Garnier at four thirty on Friday because the show was at six forty and there was a lot to do. I ate a small dinner with the cast, sitting with Alex. "Big night tonight, huh?" he said around five o'clock as I took a bite of my grilled cheese.  
"Mhmm," I replied, still chewing. I swallowed and said, "Andrew Lloyd Webber. Can you believe that?!"  
"Well, they're sitting in Box Five, maybe the Opera Ghost won't like that." He laughed, unaware that the girl he had a huge crush on was seeing the Opera Ghost, who is real. I gave a little chuckle, but I wasn't sure if Erik would be cool with it. I just said, "Well, he'll have to deal with it."  
After an awkward silent pause, Alex said, "Um, Avril, there's been something I've been wanting to tell you ever since we were reunited."  
I knew where he was going, and it might have been time to tell him that the Opera Ghost is real and is my boyfriend. "I…I—"  
He was interrupted by Frank. "Okay, people, it's five o'clock, we have an hour and forty minutes until this little community theater will have the greatest honor any community theater anywhere could get. We are lucky. The audience should be here by six twenty or so. We want your costumes on by five fifty and makeup by six twenty. Patience is key, though. Be patient. Andrew Lloyd Webber is very excited for the performance and very excited to meet you all. We have to do our best. Finish your dinner quick and get your costumes. Meet me back here when you're done."  
Alex and I were too busy eating as fast as we could for him to tell me what he wanted to say.

Erik wasn't in my dressing room at five fifteen when I got there. Before I could sit down, I heard Erik sing firmly, _"Insolent boy, this slave of fashion basking in your glory. Ignorant fool, this brave young suitor, sharing in my triumph!"_  
"Haven't we done this before?" I said calmly. "I'm aware that he has a gross crush on me and if you don't know that I'll definitely reject him, you're stupid."  
He sighed. "I'm just worried, I suppose."  
"Don't be," I told him. "If he winds up confessing something, I'll reject him. And, again, you may not Punjab lasso him. Okay? And you don't need to hide in the mirror. You're my boyfriend, I like you better in person."  
He walked through the big mirror. I said, "If you wanna sit in Box Five, you're kinda screwed because Andrew Fucking Lloyd Webber and Joel Shmaucher will be there."  
"I will be paying Webber a visit," Erik said. "He knows me. I think he's the only person I've ghostwritten for whom I like at all. He did write all the other musicals he's written, but mine must be the most well-known."  
"So you will be sitting in Box Five?"  
"Probably. I'll be watching no matter what," he said with a smile. He gave me a brief kiss and disappeared.

I put on my costume and did my makeup myself. I had plenty of time to spare before I had to meet Frank, so I just sat around for a while until I heard my phone ring. I opened a text message from a familiar number. It said, "_Abvpril, youre mom is commming too bring u home."_ My mom is not good with texting. But she sent me a text. I screamed at the sight until Emily rushed in. "Avril! What's wrong?!" she shrieked.  
"She's out to get me," I cried. "She's coming for me."  
"Who?" she said, kneeling by my seat.  
I sniffled. "My mom. She wants to take me back and she'll stop at nothing to."  
"What?!" Emily exclaimed. "Y-you can't leave, this isn't the only performance and we need _you_ for it!"  
"It's not just that," I said. I trusted my dear friend with a secret. "I have a boyfriend here."  
"Is that why you and Alex are always together?" she chuckled.  
"He wishes," I laughed. "No, it's…um, someone else."  
"Does your grandma know?"  
I shook my head. "She'll have to find out sometime. I love him…a lot."  
"Does Alex know?"  
"No," I replied. "He'll have to find out soon, too. Everyone will."  
"Well," she said. "The show must go on. And maybe that boyfriend of yours will protect you."  
I smiled. "That'd be cool."  
"We should get going."


	13. Chapter 13

The show did go on. Quite well, in fact. I was able to see Grandma and Horace sitting in the front row. Everyone looked mesmerized while I, especially, was singing. During _Think Of Me,_ I took a peek at Andrew Fucking Lloyd Webber and Joel Shmaucher. Webber, especially, looked amazed. That kept me going and gave me the strength to push away the lingering worry that Mom would kidnap me. I made it through very well.

I had never seen so many people applauding at the same time in one place until the end of opening night. I was the second to last to bow, after Greg and before Alex. The applause was just as loud and cheerful when Alex, who still had the plaster gross half of the face on, came on. When everyone bowed together, the lights went out and the curtains went down. I ran to my dressing room and saw Erik enter through the mirror as I entered. I smiled and leaped into his arms. "How'd I do?" I asked, my voice muffled because my head was leaning against his black cloak.  
"No one could have done better, _ma cher,_" he replied, stroking my hair.  
I lifted my head off his shoulder after a while and said, "Andrew Lloyd Webber is here, but why can't the real composer of the amazing play join us for the cast party?"  
"You know why I can't, Avril," he said.  
"Too bad, Erik, I told Emily."  
He loosened his grip on me. "What?"  
"Well, I didn't say that I'm dating the Phantom of the Opera, but I told her I was seeing someone who wasn't Alex. After…um…my mom said she was coming for me."  
He pulled me closer to him and let me cry. "She won't take you away from me,_mon amour_. No one will."  
"Please come to the cast party," I said. "Or just be there. I don't wanna see her."  
"Perhaps I'll join you…as long as you don't let Monsieur Moreau kiss you."  
"Psh, he's tried on numerous occasions and I know how to handle it. As long as you control your Punjab lasso." After another silent pause, I continued, "At least go away so I can get my clothes on."  
He kissed me goodbye and left.

The audience was gone when I came to the ballroom for the cast party. Everyone was wearing something nice, sitting at the long table for more than enough of the cast to sit. I couldn't see Andrew Fucking Lloyd Webber anywhere, but there was an empty seat at the end of the table across Alex. I sat at that seat and Alex said, "Avril, you were fantastic. I can't believe it. Fantastic job."  
"No, _you_," I replied. "You were a better Phantom than Gerard Butler himself. And that's a huge compliment from a huge Phan."  
After an awkward pause, Alex said, "Avril, I'm just gonna come out and say it. I…I—"  
Frank coming in, with Andrew Fucking Lloyd Webber by his side, interrupted him. Frank said, "You all were amazing. I can't believe it. I'm so proud." He gestured to Andrew Fucking Lloyd Webber. "As you all should know, this is Andrew Lloyd Webber and he will be joining us for dinner!"  
Everyone clapped as Andrew Fucking Lloyd Webber came to the table…and sat at the end seat by me. "The caterers will come shortly to take your order. I'll be back," Frank said. He left. He left me alone with Andrew Fucking Lloyd Webber. I was speechless. But then I remembered that it was Erik who wrote his most famous work. Still, he wrote everything else. I couldn't talk, though. So he spoke. "You played Christine, didn't you?"  
"Y-yeah, I did," I replied.  
"What's your name again?" he asked.  
"Avril Hills," I answered, trembling.  
"It's a pleasure, Avril, I'm Andrew."  
"Think I don't know that?" I chuckled, feeling free to be casual. "I'm a huge fan of…everything."  
I had been talking to Andrew Fucking Lloyd Webber since the food came. We didn't talk about Erik, but I really wanted to. So I blurted, "So…do you talk to him often?"  
"Who?" he asked.  
"The ghostwriter," I replied. "The frickin' awesome ghostwriter who wrote your most famous production."  
"H-how do you know about that?" he asked.  
"He told me so himself," I replied. "For all we know, he's probably watching now." I took a forkful of my spaghetti. When I swallowed, I added, "I begged him to come because everyone here should know the truth. Not that you suck for lying about POTO, you wrote _Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat_, didn't you?"  
"I did…and I didn't write _Phantom_…Erik Destler did…how do you know him?"  
I gave a little laugh. "_Knowing _is an understatement. The Gerard Butler Phantom are a lot of Phangirls' boyfriend. The Phantom of the Palais Garnier, the ghostwriter for Gaston Leroux and you, is actually my boyfriend."  
Alex, who was talking to Greg the whole time, looked at me. "Huh?" he said, shocked. "Who's your boyfriend?"  
I saw a shadow come across the hall. "That might be him."  
I was horribly wrong. A woman with ratty brown hair, angry gray eyes, a push-up bra under a cheap dress approached me. "Oh…fuck…" I murmured. It was my mom.  
She went to me and I pretended not to know her, staring at my plate. She yanked my hair and stood me up. "Where have you been?!" she hollered, loud enough for St. Cloud to hear.  
I couldn't talk, I was so scared. Before she could slap me, I felt something pick me up. Erik. A trapdoor brought us under the floor and to a cellar or something. Erik gently put me down and I mumbled, "She really is out to get me, isn't she? She wants to take me back to hell."  
"Not while I'm around," he said. "She'll never find you in the lair, if you don't mind staying there for a while."  
"Please do take me down there," I replied.


	14. Chapter 14

Erik brought my stuff down from my dressing room, including my cell phone. Grandma called me and when I answered she said, "Avril, I heard your mother came…what happened?"  
"She physically harmed me in front of everyone, including Andrew Fucking Lloyd Webber, who I was having a nice conversation with."  
"Where are you now?"  
"Um…promise not to look for me, but I'm safe."  
"Okay, but where are you?"  
"Um…in the fifth cellar of the Palais Garnier…by the way, did you know that the Phantom of the Opera is real?"  
Grandma sounded shocked. "Y-you're in the Palais Garnier with someone?"  
"Yeah. He's, um, my boyfriend."  
"As long as you're safe," Grandma said. "Will you be performing tomorrow at one?"  
"I should be…if Mom leaves me alone. She won't find me…I hope. But I'll be fine and see you tomorrow. 'Kay?"  
She sighed. "Okay, bye."  
I hung up and Erik came to me. He took my hand and let me remain lying down. "Will you still perform tomorrow?"  
"I want to," I replied, only moving my mouth. "That doesn't mean my mom won't find me and do whatever it takes to bring me back to hell."  
He kissed my hand and replied, "I won't let her."  
"I know you'll try, but if she's not drunk, she's on a hangover and really grouchy. If what she wants doesn't come to her, she'll take it by force. I know. I've lived with her for seventeen years."  
He went to sit beside me. I scooted over a bit because I was just lying in the middle. Still holding my hand, he said, "I will do whatever it takes to prevent her from taking you away from me."  
"Does Punjab lassoing her fall into that category?" I asked blankly.  
"I'm afraid that it is my only way," Erik replied sheepishly.  
"Bleh. I don't care." I reacted tartly. "If you have to, don't let me stop you. Just don't let her get to me."  
He kissed my chin and said, "It's late, _ma cher_. Perhaps you should sleep."  
"Okay," I replied. "_If_ you'll play that song you wrote for me."  
He gave me a smile. "If my lover commands."  
"Yes, I do," I replied in a Minnie Driver as Carlotta tone.  
He went to the organ and began playing. It was the only way for me to fall asleep, and just when it ended, I did.

I woke up to the sound of my cell phone ringing. I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes and didn't see Erik anywhere. I answered my phone, "Hello?"  
"Hi, Avril? It's Frank."  
"Hi, Frank," I replied. "Is tonight's show still on?"  
"I hope so," he replied. "I called your grandmother, she said you were with your boyfriend nearby. Can you come to the Palais Garnier by three?"  
"Yeah, no problem." I replied. "I'm just hiding from my mom. I hope she can't get backstage."  
"No, she won't," Frank replied. "We'll keep you safe."  
"Thanks."  
Right when I hung up, Erik came on the boat. He stepped onto the floor and I said, "Where were you?"  
"Your mother coaxed the ticket salesman into giving her a seat in the front row," he said. "So I built a trap.  
"Leading to…?"  
"To a torture chamber."  
"Mm, cool," I replied.  
I heard something splashing and I said, "Did you hear that?"  
"Avril!" I heard someone croak. The splashing came closer and closer. Erik and I went to look and I saw Alex swimming towards us. Erik got a Punjab lasso out and I grabbed it from him. Playfully whipping him with it, I said, "He's a friend."  
"He shouldn't be here," Erik hissed.  
"I'll take care of it," I said. "Leave."  
Erik got out of my sight just as Alex made it to me. He grabbed onto the edge of the floor and looked up at me. "What is this place?"  
"I dunno, some kind of sanctuary," I replied.  
He lifted himself up and looked around. "Looks more like someone's lair."  
"Someone's?" I repeated.  
"Yeah."  
"Well, it's here, and it's keeping me safe from my mom."  
Alex looked around like it was a museum. He examined the organ and I saw Erik in a corner looking kinda pissed. _I'll take care of it,_ I mouthed to him. I went to Alex, who was about to touch it. "I wouldn't do that if I were you, Alex," I said. "This could be someone's place, as if I wouldn't be in any trouble for crashing here once in a while."  
Erik gave me a smile before Alex said, "Well, um…kinda seems like the place the Phantom's lair would be."  
"There is no Phantom of the Opera," I murmured, trying to sing like Greg.  
Alex gave a little laugh. "You're right, you're right. Just some genius's imagination that he put to paper, huh?"  
Erik did not look very happy about that. I waved my arm at him and said, "Are Frank and people up there?"  
"Yeah," Alex said. "Will you go up with me?"  
Erik shook his head. I said to Alex, "I'll catch up."  
"How'd you get here, anyway?"  
I looked at Erik, this time needing something to say. He rushed out and bonked Alex on the head, knocking him out. At least, I thought. I caught him before he fell and exclaimed, "Erik, what was that about?"  
"He's not dead, Avril," he said. "I did this because you are out of ideas. I'll bring him to the theater and it'll be as if it never happened."  
"Should I go up, too?" I asked.  
"No," he said. "_She_ might be up there. She won't find you here. It's five in the morning, you should get more rest."  
I shrugged. "Okay."

I woke up from a catnap to the sound of the boat stopping at the floor. Erik was there. As he walked to me, he said, "I put him on one of the seats and he woke up before I left. It should be fine, but I secured the mirror just in case. I don't want him back here."  
"Thanks for not killing him," I said.


	15. Chapter 15

Erik and I just hung around until I had to be backstage. He brought me to my dressing room and I met with everyone. Marine looked shocked when she saw me. "A-Avril…where were you?"  
"Just hiding," I replied. "Seen my mom anywhere?"  
"No," Lucile said.  
"Good," I breathed. "I might not die."  
"Okay, so the show will start in forty-five minutes," Marine said. "So, same as yesterday, get your costumes and makeup on, be patient, _se casser une jambe, bonne chance,_ that stuff."

I went into my dressing room to find Erik. "Is _she_ out there?" I asked him.  
"No," he replied. "Not many people are, actually. It's early."  
He helped me into my costume and kept me company after I did my makeup. I was confident that everything would be okay.  
I was kind of wrong.

During _The Labyrinth Underground_, I saw my mom. She caught my eye and I looked away, trying not to sound any different than I was supposed to be. In every scene I was in, she remained in her seat, the only gross person in a sea of fancy people. When the intermission started, Alex came to me before I could get into my dressing room. "Avril, you seemed tense," he said to me.  
"Oh, crap, did that affect anything?" I asked nervously.  
"No, you were fantastic, everyone thought so, but is something wrong?"  
"My mom's presence was bugging me," I said.  
"Save the fear for after _Masquerade_," Alex said with a comforting smile.  
I smiled back. "Thanks." I went into my dressing room and found Erik. I ran into his arms and cried a little. He softly sang the song he wrote for me, which made me stop crying in an instant. As he helped me into my Masquerade dress, he said, "She's in the torture chamber."  
"Yes!" I exclaimed as he laced me up. "Thank you, thank you so much."  
He tied a knot and kissed my neck. "Enchant them once again."  
I sighed. "You're what's keeping me trying. Thanks for being alive, Erik."  
We shared one last and kind of long kiss before I left.

During _Masquerade,_ I didn't see Mom anywhere. Good. I was able to perform better than I was. When I went to my dressing room to change for the next scene, where Andre and Firmin describe, in song, how outraged they are that the Phantom is making them do Don Juan Triumphant, Erik wasn't there like he said he would be. I changed on my own and went back to nervously performing. I held a little comfort in the empty seat which once was forced to hoist my mom's ass on it, though.


	16. Chapter 16

When I finished changing for the Don Juan scene, Alex knocked on the door. "Come in," I said.  
He entered and said, "Hey, Avril, you're doing fantastic."  
"You're awful sweet," I said. "But you're a hell of a lot fantastic-er."  
"No, _you_. You're doing great."  
"Thanks," I said.  
After an awkward pause, Alex said, "Avril, I'm just gonna come out and say it. I…I—"  
Frank knocked twice on the open door and poked his head in. "Let's go, Avril and Alex. Big scene."  
"Every frickin' time," he grumbled as we left. "I get interrupted."  
We stood in the wings, watching Lucile and the chorus sing the introduction. I knew Alex was going to confess something, something Erik didn't want him to say. He kept mumbling _I…I…I_ and finally said it while Rick, the guy who played Piangi, sang the last line before I came in. "I love yo—" Alex didn't finish what he said because I had to go on. I sang while noticing the empty seat which once held my mom's ass, _"No thoughts within her head but thoughts of joy…no dreams within her heart but dreams of love!"_  
"Master?" the guy whose name I never learned who played Passarino said.  
I was supposed to hear Alex. Alex has a beautiful voice, perfect to portray the Phantom. But this wasn't Alex, playing the Phantom as Don Juan. This was the Erik Destler as himself playing Don Juan. _"Passarino…go away for the trap is set and waits for its prey…"_  
I took two quick looks at each of the wings as the cloaked figure approached me. No one was there. But I still had to play Christine as Aminta. When Erik sang the part, I looked shocked like I was supposed to. _"You have come here…in pursuit of your deepest urge…in pursuit of that wish, which 'till now has been silent…silent…"_ I hated to think it, but this was much more exciting than Alex being the one in the cloak to be embracing me and stuff on stage. _"I have brought you…that our passions may fuse and merge—in your mind you've already succumbed to me…dropped all defenses…completely succumbed to me…now you are here with me: no second thoughts, you've decided, decided…"_ The audience looked confused, perhaps knowing that it wasn't that young Moreau boy singing by the American redhead. Erik followed Marine's excellent choreography while he continued, _"Past the point of no return—no backward glances: the games we've played till now are at an end…past all thought of "if" or "when" -no use resisting…abandon thought, and let the dream descend."_ He wrapped his arms around my neck and continued like normal, _"What raging fire shall flood the soul? What rich desire unlocks its door? What sweet seduction lies before us?"_ He let go of my neck and went around my shoulders, concluding, _"Past the point of no return, the final threshold—what warm, unspoken secrets will we learn? Beyond the point of no return…"_  
The show must go on, I thought. I said, trying to be both Christine playing Aminta and Avril trying to impress her boyfriend, _"You have brought me…to that moment where words run dry…to that moment where speech disappears into silence…silence…"_ I stood up like I was supposed to, looked at what I knew was Erik because, besides a shadow and a hood covering his face, I could see his satisfied smile, and continued, _"I have come here, hardly knowing the reason why…in my mind, I've already imagined our bodies entwining…defenseless and silent—and now I am here with you: no second thoughts…I've decided…decided…past the point of no return—no going back now…our passion-play has now, at last, begun…past all thought of right or wrong—one final question: how long should we two wait, before we're one . . .?"_ I took a little pause and noticed him nod. I continued, under my boyfriend's reasonable request, _"When will the blood begin to race…the sleeping bud burst into bloom? When will the flames, at last, consume us . . .?"_  
We sang together, and quite well if I do say so myself, _"Past the point of no return…the final threshold—the bridge is crossed, so stand and watch it burn…we've passed the point of no return…"_  
The chorus who played police looked genuinely confused because they knew this wasn't Alex. This was some creeper. Some creeper whom Avril seemed to like and could sing. Holding me by my waist, he sang softly, _"Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime…lead me, save me from my solitude…say you want me with you here beside you…anywhere you go, let me go too!"_ He turned me to face him and presented me a ring. It wasn't the one with a huge glass diamond held by metal with silver paint, this one was obviously real. It had a thick platinum base covered in diamonds and one huge diamond in the middle. My mouth dropped and I murmured, "F-for real?"  
_"Avril,"_ he sang. _"That's all I ask of…"_  
I didn't notice the soaking wet woman on the stage limp in until she said, "There you are, Avril."  
The show must go on. The ring was on my finger but Erik had yet to be unmasked. I took off the hood of his cloak and the audience, who were confused by my mom creeping on stage, were even more confused when they saw this masked man was too tall, better a singer and kinda hotter than Alexandre Moreau. He flinched when I tried to take off his mask, like I was supposed to, but it happened anyway. Everyone but me screamed at the same time. They didn't scream but flinch at the sight of the gory stickers on Alex's face the previous night. But Erik's face was real. I loved him too much to be really scared or grossed out. It just looked like a thin layer of skin covering veins and sinuses of his face. His eye looked kind of lazy and his hair got messed up, but that didn't change my opinion about him. I still considered him the hottest guy in the world, but Mom, of all the screaming men and women in the audience, disagreed the most.  
"I'm takin' you away from this freak of nature!" Mom said. Just before she could grab me, Erik and I fell. A trapdoor, I assumed. We landed in the catacombs and he grabbed a torch from a stand on the brick wall. As he rushed me away, he said, "You hate me now, Avril, I know, but I need you!"  
"Erik, slow down!" I commanded. He stopped and looked at me. I saw a few tears run down his face. I touched the part that used to be covered by the mask. "It's not that bad. And I don't hate you. I love you even more because you're being truthful. I don't mind. It's a flaw. You're still the hottest guy a girl could be with." I looked down at the ring. "I love you," I murmured. "And there's nothing I want more than for us to get married."  
"A-are you sure?" he asked.  
"Of course I am," I replied. I gave him a smile. "Come on, let's go to the lair and make some plans. And walk."  
He smiled back. Hand in hand, we walked back.


	17. Chapter 17

When we got to the lair, I said, "Okay, we can't get married right here and now. I don't need a party, I need a license. W-what do you want to do with your life when we do? Like, in the book, you wanted to just live somewhere normal, be normal and stuff?"  
"I suppose so," he said.  
I smiled. "That sounds nice. Y'know, I wanna keep performing and stuff. Performing your shows."  
He smiled back. "We could do that, couldn't we?"  
"Yeah. We could go to New York, to Broadway." I held out my left hand. "Deal?"  
He took my hand and kissed my forehead. "Deal," he said.  
And then something happened. Something that would lead to some more time in hell. My cell phone rang. I sighed and noticed the caller ID said Alex. I would talk to him. "Alex, don't worry about me, I'm safe."  
"That's your opinion. I know where you are, Avril, the owner told me. Looks like the Phantom stole my thunder," he said so angrily that I didn't think it was him.  
"Sorry about that, but what else was he supposed to do? Let me get captured by my mom and never see him _and_ you again?"  
"Who is he to you, anyway?" he asked. "And…who is he?"  
"His name is Erik, he's the ghostwriter for Gaston Leroux, Andrew Lloyd Webber and some musicians and playwrights today. To me, he's my fiancé. Leave us alone, Alex, this is happening."  
"Can't do that," he said. "Your mom has me at gunpoint and I want to get you out of there. If you cooperate, she might let you stay with me."  
"She won't let me stay with either of you! Kill her! You'll be my hero!"  
"Sorry, Avril, but…there's an angry mob heading your way."  
Alex hung up and I heard faint shouting. "Oh…no…" I muttered. I dropped the phone and ran to Erik. I clung onto him and said, "They're out to get us, Erik. We have to escape right now!"  
He made me let go of him and went to a row of buttons and levers. I walked to him before he pressed one and said, "What's up with that?"  
"Torture chambers," he said. He went to pull a lever but I stopped his hand. "No!" I exclaimed. "No. They're all being pushed by my mom. They're innocent."  
"If you insist," he said. "Perhaps we should just—"  
We were too late. The gate that enclosed the lair was pushed down. A crowd led by Alex and Mom were coming. "Wait here!" Alex commanded. He and Mom went up to us. I was trembling in Erik's arms and he was frozen. Mom got a good look at Erik. "Ew! That's worse than I thought!"  
"I know, right?" Alex scoffed.  
Erik sighed. "You're not the only one to say that."  
Mom got out a gun and pointed it at us. "You'll hand us the slut or you'll both die."  
"I'm a thorn in your side, why would you want me back?" I furiously asked Mom.  
"Because you're my daughter and I love you," the worst actress, aka my mom, whined.  
I didn't buy it. "If you love me, you'll want my happiness and I can't leave him."  
Mom's seemingly sentimental face turned into one of anger. She shot Erik, sending him screaming until he hit the ground. Alex grabbed me. "I'm in good with her. You could stay in Paris if you're with me. Together. Perhaps dating."  
"No. No dating," I said, trying to struggle out of his grip. He was stronger than I thought.  
"Then, you're going back to America." He let go of me and I escaped Mom to go down to the bleeding Erik. "Don't die," I cried.  
With the arm on the side of him that wasn't shot, he took my left hand, which still had the ring on it, and shakily put it to his lips. "Only for you will I live."  
I gulped. "I will never take this off."  
Mom grabbed me. "You're going home." She was able to carry me down, even though I punched and struggled. "The Music of the Night is not over!" I shouted while she carried me away.


	18. Chapter 18

It feels over.

Exactly one year has passed since Mom tore me from my soul mate, but it feels like a lifetime. I haven't spoken a word since. I haven't smiled or frowned. I haven't laughed or cried. I haven't read his masterpiece book, watched his fantastic movie or listened to his breathtaking soundtrack. None of it is as good as being near him. I wake up, spend the day and go to sleep in jeans, my Phanatic shirt, a plain black hoodie and his ring tied in a ribbon around my neck. Only scissors will separate it from me. I do my homework if I decide to, I eat if I really want to, and when I do shower, I do it in my clothes and cut myself. As you can imagine, my hair is a mess, but it's hidden under the hood. Like everything.  
It's the last day of school. I've had senior projects and finals to do, but I haven't. The rotten principal, who has enjoyed numerous blowjobs from my mom, calls me to his office. I go.

I sit down across his desk and he looks at me with a stern expression. "Well, Avril, it hasn't been a very good year, now, has it?"  
I remain emotionless.  
"Well, this is very bad news. You have failed all year. You're going to have to repeat 12th grade if you want to succeed not only in your grade school studies, but in society."  
He has pissed me off many times. But this was the worst. I don't need no society, I need Erik to come back. I haven't heard from Grandma, Emily, Andrew Fucking Lloyd Webber, not even Alex, less alone Erik. This is the first act of pain I've expressed since I closed my mouth forever. He has a brand-new desktop computer on his desk. I pick it up and fling it at him. He screams and I flip him off before running out the doors, despite the secretaries yelling at me. In the bus circle sits a limousine. My eyes widen when I find the chauffer holding a sign that says "_Avril Hills_." I look both ways and point at myself. The guy nods. He could be a kidnapper, but I don't care. I can't show my face in that school again. I don't even want to go home. I approach him and he says, "I have a message from a Mr. Destler."  
The name rings a bell. He hands me an envelope. On top of it is a rose tied with a black bow. I actually gasp a little. I open the note, which is closed with a red wax stamp in the shape of a skull. "Dear Miss Hills,  
_You have received the honor of an invitation to the grand opening of_ Le Théâtre du Fantôme _in New York City, New York, on the second of May, seven P.M. We implore you to come."_  
My mouth drops. I look at the chauffer. He says, "This is quite an honor, Mademoiselle. The guest list is very restricted."  
I nodded. He opened the door for me and I got in. This was the first time I had been in a fancy vehicle, let alone _limo_! I enjoy the long ride to New York City silently.

Hours pass and I see the lights of NYC shining through the windows. I expect to see the theater that has played The Phantom of the Opera for so long but I don't. The limo stops at a theater that looks kind of like the Palais Garnier. The chauffer lets me out and I take a moment to gaze at the exact replica of the place I hardly knew but loved. This felt like something better. The chauffer opens the door and says, "Welcome home, Miss Hills."  
The door closes before I can counter. I look forward and see what looks like the main hall of the Palais Garnier but awesomer. But it's dark. I walk forward and clap once to get attention. A light comes from a door up the stairs. I walked upstairs and went inside to see a theater much like the Palais Garnier's. The majestic chandelier is dim but turns off when I'm in one of the aisles. The curtain goes up and a dim light comes onto the center of the stage by the time I'm at the front row. I hear footsteps touch the stage and see a man wearing an all-black Victorian outfit come into the light. He has black hair pushed neatly behind his ears, and on his face is a white mask. I'm not sure exactly who it is but when I hear his voice, I have a clue, because only two people know the song my fiancé wrote me—me and my fiancé. He's singing the song he wrote for me. In the middle, he helps me onto the stage and sings the rest. When it's over, I'm about to fall into the orchestra pit, but he saves me. He's holding me in a dip position and lets me touch his face. "Is it really you?" Those are the first words I spoke in an entire year.  
"It's me, Avril," he says.  
I throw my arms around his neck and hold onto him tighter than I did when my mom separated us, giving him a kiss that neither of us will ever forget.

I am Avril Destler, star of the operas and musicals by the world-famous playwright and songwriter Erik Destler. I am also his wife and co-owner of the_Théâtre du Fantôme._ Every year, we put on his most famour work, _The Phantom of the Opera._ We have many frequent audience members, such as Annette Cormier, Frank, Marine and Pierre, even Alexandre Moreau. Sitting in Box Five is often Andrew Lloyd Webber, a good friend of ours. I think I found my happily ever after.


End file.
